


Fun

by SapphoIsBurning



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Dirtpatch, Angst, Chocolate Box Exchange 2019, Chocolate Box Treat, M/M, Morning After, Not Happy, Regret, everyone is a dirtbag, not wrestling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-10-26 00:17:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17735390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SapphoIsBurning/pseuds/SapphoIsBurning
Summary: Dean and Seth wake up together, again. It's a mess, like usual.





	Fun

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sanidine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sanidine/gifts).



The clock was unplugged from the wall. In its place was a waffle iron. There was plastic melted into the waffle iron, and something else. A bottle of vanilla lube was on its side and would be leaking into the carpet if it weren’t already empty. Something was beeping.

Dean rolled over and the sound of empty food wrappers crinkled in the bed. Everything smelled like dirty underwear and the inside of a McFlurry machine. He tried to move his arm but it was trapped under the guy in bed next to him.

Fuck.

“We can’t keep doing this,” Dean said. He tugged harder. Seth rolled over to face him, looking like a regretful middle-class teen, like he always did in the morning. 

“Then stop calling me,” Seth slurred.

“You called me.”

“I needed my waffle iron back,” he whined, blinking

“You didn’t have to stay.” The wind howled outside the trailer. Someone was using a snowblower, probably, though there wasn’t any snow on the ground to speak of, or many leaves.

Seth swiped the contact lenses out of his eyes and flicked them away. “I don’t even know where I parked. Do I still have my hubcaps, do you think?”

“I give you fifty-fifty. You could have walked if you were worried.”

“No way.” Seth grimaced.

Seth regarded Dean’s disheveled hair, the cobwebs hanging from the window air conditioner, the broken frame on the Wrestlemania X7 poster on the wall.

“Why do you always look at me like you’re slumming it?” Dean said.

“Why did you put a Slim Jim in my waffle iron?” Seth asked. “You didn’t even unwrap it.”

“Bo told me he was sure the wrappers were edible if you...ah never mind.” Dean pulled hard and his arm came free, with a purple fur handcuff still dangling from it. 

“Why do you even have those,” Seth said. “Can’t you afford real handcuffs?”

“They don’t let you keep them as a souvenir.” Dean grinned unpleasantly.

Seth went a little white. He stopped talking and got out of the bed. He dug through the trash on the floor looking for his socks, shoes. One sock was good enough but two shoes was the minimum before he could leave. 

“I have to work today,” Seth muttered.

“Did you not know that last night?” Dean asked. “I have to work too.”

“Oh, has the Amway business picked up?”

Dean sighed. “You don’t have to be like this.”

“I’m serious.”

“I’m working for the county now,” Dean said quietly. “I thought I told you. Road maintenance. I’m training to drive the snow plow.”

Seth sighed. “That’s great, Dean. I’m happy for you.” His voice was flat. He found his glasses in a jacket pocket and put them on.

“Not everyone can be a Gamestop assistant manager, Seth,” Dean said. “I’ll let you know next time I need to pre-order a Rick and Morty Funko Pop though. I know you got the hookup.”

“Those are actually sold out already but...yeah. Right.”

Seth got dressed in the dim light. Dean found an unopened Diet Dr. Pepper and cracked the cap with a hiss.

“It’s been real,” Seth said, grabbing his keys off a table.

“Real something,” Dean said. “Forgive me if I don’t see you out.”

Seth rolled his eyes and turned to leave. The screen door slammed behind him.

Dean spotted something lying on the floor next to the bed. He picked it up: Seth’s wallet. Not much in it, though. Driver’s license. Insurance card. A twenty with a dick drawn on it. Some folded up piece of paper...Dean pulled it out.

It was a picture of the two of them, years ago. Seth still had that fucking terrible blonde hair thing and they were drinking Code Red and laughing outside of the old bowling alley. Who prints out fucking pictures anymore? Dean thought. Why this one. Come the fuck on. 

Dean crumpled up the picture. He pocketed the twenty.

He didn’t call Seth. He knew he’d come back. He always did.


End file.
